Evening Ramble

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Some tired thoughts from an observer. Don’t take them too seriously.


On Overreaction

I’m often amazed at how stupid people can be. Perhaps this is foolish since I myself do stupid things and I like to think that I’m somewhat intelligent. Nevertheless, the reactionary nature of the “right-wing” leads a lot of “rightists” to hold really dumb positions. In reacting to the ridiculousness of the modern world, they instinctively swing into some extreme position. They see how idealistic leftists are and become completely pragmatic. They see how optimistic liberals are and become entirely pessimistic. They see women being promiscuous and determine that they’re all worthless whores. They see degenerates being praised and then think that all men are utterly depraved. They see how “altruistic” leftists try to be and conclude that all charity is destructive. They see how weak modern Christianity is and conclude that it is a cuck religion. They see how “principled” toothless conservatives are and conclude that all principles are useless. They see how unwilling liberals are to talk about race and conclude that race is everything. They see how bad capitalism is and become strict socialists. They see how bad socialism is and become strict capitalists. Those who are Catholic see laxity and tolerance falsely preached in the churches and respond with the most rigorous Jansenism. They see how foolish Francis is and determine that he is not the Pope. Et cetera.

Where is prudence? The stupidity of many “alt right” positions has been pointed out before. None of this is new.

Yet, this sort of overreaction also infects the more “intellectual” parts of the “Right.” I have sometimes encountered outrageous statements made by people in the “reactosphere” which often seem to be attempts at being edgy more than anything else. “Only what’s eugenic matters.” “As long as it benefits my tribe, it’s moral.” “Of course the ends justify the means.” “We need to kill all leftists.” “Power determines everything.” “The economy determines everything.” “Power is Truth.” “We need a very rigid caste system.” “You can never trust reason.” Et cetera. Again, in reacting to the egalitarianism, pseudo-science, xenophilia, and whatever other idiocy of modernity, they will convince themselves of strange ideas. Yes, we get it, you’re an edgy heretic — but are you right?

(Maybe this entire article is an overreaction on my part; but reflection is crucial.)


On Being Wrong

It is easy for writers to make wild assertions. I am certainly guilty of this, though I like to think that the topics I discuss are both broad enough so that my claims are largely intuitive and accessible enough so that I can be corrected if I’m wrong. There are some in the “reactosphere” who try to back up their points with data; more power to them. Yet many, like me, make claims that are intended to be based on intuition and/or induction. The problem is that we can often be wrong.

We all laugh at the foolish fourteen year old who thinks he has the whole world figured out. We know that dumb moderns can’t possibly figure out the world for themselves. Even the intelligent among us are aware that we are sometimes wrong, and not nearly as enlightened as our forebears. So, we read that one really smart and edgy guy who did figure it all out. Surely he can’t be wrong too, right?

Just like the pseudo-intellectuals who read a single book by some “profound” thinker and suddenly know everything, there is a tendency among some of us, notably the younger among us, to take all the words of one or two writers as gospel. They were right about everything, and anyone who challenges them is wrong. Except that’s dumb. “But Evola said—”; “But Maistre said—”; “But Bonald said—”; “But Moldbug said—”; etc. Evola was wrong. Maistre was wrong. Bonald was wrong. Moldbug was wrong. We know that humans are fallible, yet we find ourselves adhering to the “system” of one man. There’s no shame in critical analysis or realizing that we’re wrong. Most laymen hold a position because it makes them feel good, not because it’s true. Are you sure you’re not acting like most people?

The Church has never picked out the thought of one individual saint to be universal. Even Thomism, though much has been incorporated into “official” Catholic theology, need not be fully accepted by any Catholic. In fact, St. Thomas, and therefore the Dominicans for centuries afterward, was wrong; he denied the Immaculate Conception. That one of the greatest theologians and saints was wrong shows us that we are all fallible. Never forget that.

On the other hand, there is also the problem of calling some party wrong when one can’t even back up that statement. This is not inherently bad, as it does not really have an effect on whether that party is actually wrong; for example, an unlearned Christian can tell you that Arius was wrong even if they don’t fully know what was wrong with his Christology. They’re still right since the Church condemned Arius, and he was indeed wrong. However, we must not be so bold as to simply say that so-and-so is wrong simply because we want them to be. Or are we still children? It is risky for me to plainly say “Marx was wrong” if I don’t know anything about Marx. I may be right, but then again, I may be wrong.

Part of what made the Church so great was the gathering of the greatest minds from all over the world into one divine institution. Men could argue and debate and compare notes while all seeking after the truth (this point makes some “rightists” uncomfortable, but we’ll get there). Yet, it was all done within the boundaries of orthodoxy and authority. It was a genuine quest for Truth and Goodness, even if ego did get in the way occasionally. But, the only way for a group seeking after truth to actually succeed is for all to be willing to admit that they may be wrong until truth is found. In the end, Truth, God, stands firm, no matter the opinions of men.

Prudence in all things. Is this statement I am about to make worth saying? Why am I going to say it? Do I have a good reason for believing it to be true? All questions to consider.

Regardless, the prickly nature of many “intellectual rightists” makes any sort of grand quest for some higher truth impossible, even if the pieces are there. There is a “my way or the highway” attitude. To be honest, the highway looks more desirable to me. But I’m just a fallible fool; what do I know?


On Irrationality

With these last two sections in mind, I want to come to something I find absolutely infuriating — the complete distrust of some “reactionaries” toward Reason. This is the fault of philosophical/theological “Traditionalism” (not to be confused with the perennialist Traditionalist School, traditional conservatism, or traditional Catholicism). This school of thought includes the French reactionaries from the period of the Revolution like Maistre and Bonald. Now, I love Maistre and Bonald dearly, but as I said before: Maistre was wrong, and Bonald was wrong.

Despite them both being Catholic, and I do not doubt their faith, they held a very un-Catholic view. “Traditionalism” holds that Reason is entirely incapable of coming to any profound truth by itself, and that all deep truths are from a primitive revelation from God. How quaint. Here is where we get the idea that irrationalism, anti-intellectualism, and obscurantism are good. Too bad it completely goes against Scholasticism and Church teaching.

We must always keep in mind that people are inseparable from the world in which they were present. Maistre, Bonald, et al. were responding to the “rationalism” of the “Enlightenment,” and so their position is understandable since they were combating a great evil. But they overreacted. Any sort of claim against knowledge or reason or whatever immediately defeats itself. If you say that all reason is faulty, then that statement itself is faulty, for it is formed within the framework of logic. Why would I have any interest in reading your arguments if reason is entirely useless? Or are you simply preaching faith to me? Yet, neither Maistre nor Bonald were priests.

Catholicism has never been fideistic. Reason is a gift from God, meant to be used by man, particularly as an aid to Faith. Christ Himself is the Logos, i.e. Reason; to reject Reason is to reject Logos, which is to reject Christ and the One Who sent Him.

All truth is from God, and no natural truth can contradict a supernatural truth. Philosophy is a handmaid to theology; Reason is a handmaid to Faith. This is the golden synthesis, found in the Middle Ages. The two are not opposed, and to imply that they are or can be is an error. We find a wonderful passage in the documents of the First Vatican Council:

Even though faith is above reason, there can never be any real disagreement between faith and reason, since it is the same God who reveals the mysteries and infuses faith, and who has endowed the human mind with the light of reason. God cannot deny himself, nor can truth ever be in opposition to truth. The appearance of this kind of specious contradiction is chiefly due to the fact that either the dogmas of faith are not understood and explained in accordance with the mind of the church, or unsound views are mistaken for the conclusions of reason… Not only can faith and reason never be at odds with one another but they mutually support each other, for on the one hand right reason established the foundations of the faith and, illuminated by its light, develops the science of divine things; on the other hand, faith delivers reason from errors and protects it and furnishes it with knowledge of many kinds. ~ Third Session, Chapter IV

Too many “reactionaries” want to separate Faith and Reason. What are we, Mohammedans? Rather than reject the false dichotomy that the atheist presents between Faith and Reason, the foolish fideist says “Yes, Faith is irrational and that’s a good thing!” Oh faithful fool! God gave you a brain for a reason.  I am deeply saddened that I have even seen Catholics say such ridiculous things about their faith, forgetting about Logos.

We must realize that irrational is not the same as suprarational. Just because Reason cannot grab hold onto all Truth due to man’s Fall does not mean that it is worthless. Virgil leads Dante through Hell and Purgatory before giving way to Beatrice and St. Bernard who lead Dante through Heaven. All things have their proper place.

Some profess fear over allowing discussion when it comes to truth and faith, and liken it to the liberal love for “debate.” Fear not! The light shines in the darkness. The questioning of the Schoolmen is not the same as fruitless wankery of modern “debate,” which is merely deconstruction. There’s a reason why the Church oversaw these discussions in the past, to be a loving Mother to the children and make sure that they did not go astray.

Of course, the light of Reason is prone to fading. No theologian ever held that Reason alone was sufficient for living a virtuous life or that an individual was really capable of knowing all natural truths without the assistance of Faith. For example, St. Thomas said that a man needs grace to be able to fully live up to the natural law. Faith is still supreme, and perhaps “more important” for hoi polloi, but every master needs a servant.

The proper reaction to the extreme “rationalism” of modernity, then, is temperance, not irrationality. Maistre and Bonald were right to warn of the abuse of Reason and the abandonment of Tradition and to promote Faith and the need for community. But we must separate the wheat from the chaff.


On Hypocrisy

It is easy to criticize the “alt right” for being filled with layabouts who don’t practice what they preach. Most of them sit around posting the same memes over and over, doing little to “save the white race.” But are we really much better?

There are certainly “reactionaries” who are not much better. It’s easy to talk the talk, but can you walk the walk? We say a lot about self knowledge, self improvement, family, community, faith, and so on; but what are you actually doing to put any of these principles into action? Spitting the same quotes from books you’ve never read by writers you’ve never heard of at each other is not accomplishing much. What’s even worse is talking about how bad free speech is and then complaining about a crackdown on your speech. At least be consistent.

I don’t mean that you have to be some heroic adventurer who’s always out volunteering — I myself am reclusive and very introverted. But at least I don’t sit on twitter trying to troll liberals all day. What does that accomplish? Is what you’re doing serving any real purpose? It’s ridiculous to think that every little action you perform is deep and meaningful, but each can at least not be detrimental. Remember: “In all thy works remember thy last end, and thou shalt never sin.” – Ecclesiasticus 7:40.

We are all hypocrites to some extent. None of us are perfect, and realizing that is an important step. It’s better to know that you’re flawed than to think that you’re not. But, if you’re not progressing, you’re regressing. This is basic stuff, of course, but we need to actually act if we desire to become virtuous, to become sons of God. He will judge us for our actions, not our number of followers or awards for articles.

Luckily, I think this is mostly a problem for the younger “reactionaries” since the adults do indeed have lives and seek to live them. But we all need to grow up eventually. To put our principles into practice is a mark of maturity, of growth into manhood.

I suppose all that I’ve written of here is really about maturity: prudence, temperance, a willingness to admit one’s faults, and so on. Too bad the one word that most fits the modern world is “childish.”

On Logos

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[First posted at WCR: 15 January 2017]

We have often spoken of Logos and its centrality in life; all men are called to conform themselves to it. In truth, there is so great a depth to this word and what it signifies that it could not all be discovered in a lifetime. Nevertheless, as it is a fundamental concept of metaphysics and theology, I will give a very basic and brief introduction here to the Christian understanding of Logos.

In the Christian context, we encounter λόγος (logos) as an idea in the introduction to the Gospel of St. John (1:1-14).1 It is often translated as “Word.” As we read, we see that John is connecting this term to the person of Jesus Christ. Now, it is very easy to simply learn that λόγος is another title for the same person, like Son of God, Son of Man, God the Son, and Christ, and pass over it quickly; this is especially true since the English translation of “Word” seems both simple and strange to the reader at the same time. When we do so, however, we do not fully realize nor appreciate what St. John is revealing. What does λόγος mean, and what is John’s purpose for using it here? These are really questions of high Trinitarian theology; yet, without getting into such great detail that requires a vast depth of knowledge on the topic (which I lack), we can begin to recognize the richness of λόγος through its link to several concepts: Creation, Wisdom, and Reason

John’s first words are noteworthy: Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, “In the beginning was the Word” (John 1:1).2 Immediately, we see that this Gospel is unlike the others. Let’s initially focus on the first part of this phrase to show how λόγος relates to Creation — we will take “beginning” to mean the beginning of the universe. Straight away, there is a parallel between this first line of John and the first line of the Book of Genesis, as it starts with the very same words, Ἐν ἀρχῇ, “In the beginning” (1:1). With a general familiarity of Genesis, John’s connection becomes clearer. Notice how God creates the world throughout the seven days of creation­ — in the Greek it reads καὶ εἶπεν ὁ θεός, “And God said” (Genesis 1:3 and so on), in other words, spoke, before He forms the various creatures. This “speaking” part of creation is reiterated in the Psalms: τῷ λόγῳ τοῦ Κυρίου οἱ οὐρανοὶ ἐστερεώθησαν καὶ τῷ πνεύματι τοῦ στόματος αὐτοῦ πᾶσα ἡ δύναμις αὐτῶν, “By the word of the Lord the heavens were established and all the power of them by the spirit of his mouth” (32:6). If God creates by “speaking,” then there is obviously something which is being said. As λόγος can be taken to mean word, sentence, speech, story, and so forth, a very broad translation is “that which is spoken”; hence, God creates by λόγος. Now we understand why John continues, saying οὗτος ἦν ἐν ἀρχῇ πρὸς τὸν θεόν. πάντα δι’ αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο, καὶ χωρὶς αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο οὐδὲ ἕν, “The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was made nothing that was made.” (1:2-3). The word λόγος here,  by directly associating John’s introduction with the beginning of the Book of Genesis, emphasizes the importance of “speech” with regards to creation. From the beginning, from before creation and time,3 λόγος was with God, because it was through λόγος that all that was made came to be.4

This brings us to another aspect of the translation “Word.” Any word that is spoken signifies an idea which the speaker means to convey; it is recognized by the mind of the speaker who attempts to call it to the mind of his audience. For example, a person who is talking about a “dog” correctly must first understand what the term “dog” means, which is anterior to language. (This is a part of the philosophical concept of universals.)  So, there is a knowledge which the spoken word communicates. Creation suggests a mind which renders knowledge of an idea into active physical existence; for example, a carpenter, by understanding the form (to borrow Plato’s term) of “bed,” is able to assemble one. With all this in mind, another basic translation of λόγος is “that which is thought.” In this case, it must somehow relate to Divine knowledge or thought (which itself, in turn, is related to Creation). We can find the connection made explicit in the biblical wisdom literature, particularly in the Proverbs. In a passage describing and praising Wisdom, the Greek reads Κύριος ἔκτισέ [or ἐκτήσατο] με ἀρχὴν ὁδῶν αὐτοῦ εἰς ἔργα αὐτοῦ, πρὸ τοῦ αἰῶνος ἐθεμελίωσέ με ἐν ἀρχῇ, πρὸ τοῦ τὴν γῆν ποιῆσαι, “The Lord made [or possessed] me the beginning of his ways for his works. He established me before time in the beginning, before the creation of the earth” (Proverbs 8:22-23).5 The chapter continues to describe Wisdom’s presence with God during the creation of the world. With John’s usage of Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, he echoes Wisdom’s role in creation, just as he does for the spoken Word in Genesis. Therefore, λόγος not only marks a dynamic creative speech, but also the knowledge, or Wisdom, that this spoken word reveals.

The next conception of λόγος, Reason, is closely related to the idea of Wisdom, though it is non-biblical. In this form, we can trace it back to Heraclitus, but it is commonly associated with Stoicism.6 The Stoics held there to be a Divine Reason, or Order, which they called λόγος, that governs the world through intelligible law, accessible to all rational beings. A person must contemplate human nature to understand the overarching natural law which, when aligned with, will lead to happiness. There is an objective standard given by this universal Reason, a duty that binds all to follow in order to transcend the vicissitudes of time. The Stoics identified this Reason with the universe itself, making λόγος a governing pantheistic principle, rather unlike the creative Word of the Old Testament. Nevertheless, as his audience was the Christian community in general, and since he was writing in Greek, John is playing into the Hellenistic familiarity with λόγος as Reason; as rational universal Order. Certainly, early Christians accepted this truth and used it to their advantage. For example, St. Justin Martyr employed the Stoic conception of λόγος, coupled with Christ as λόγος, to convert non-Jews.7 Furthermore, the idea that the universe is ordered and intelligible, i.e. reasonable, was integral for the medievals both in their pursuits of natural philosophy, which later developed into the physical sciences, and in their ethics, best exemplified by St. Thomas Aquinas’ formulation of Natural Law which built on Aristotle and the Stoics. Though I cannot investigate these further for the sake of brevity and focus, the Hellenistic influence upon λόγος in Christian thought is clearly undeniable.

Finally, there is the meaning of λόγος in the sense that John is establishing in the passage. The whole point of his introduction is to explicitly link λόγος to the person of Jesus Christ. He tells us ὁ λόγος σὰρξ ἐγένετο καὶ ἐσκήνωσεν ἐν ἡμῖν, “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). Now, this is obviously referring to Christ, whose story John writes through the rest of the Gospel. As a whole, his introduction is telling how Christ was present “before” and during creation, that John the Baptist came as the last prophet to prepare the way and give witness, that Christ took on flesh and came into the world, etc. John’s entire Gospel is, in essence, a witness to the Word as John knew Him in the world. He also mentions this and hearkens back to the beginning of his Gospel in his epistle8: Ὃ ἦν ἀπ’ ἀρχῆς, ὃ ἀκηκόαμεν, ὃ ἑωράκαμεν τοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς ἡμῶν, ὃ ἐθεασάμεθα καὶ αἱ χεῖρες ἡμῶν ἐψηλάφησαν, περὶ τοῦ λόγου τῆς ζωῆς… ἀπαγγέλλομεν καὶ ὑμῖν, “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life… we declare to you also” (1 John 1:1-3). In the Incarnation, the Divine Word from eternity became man, or more specifically, a man — Jesus Christ. Christ himself confirms this later in the Gospel with the famous phrase πρὶν Ἀβραὰμ γενέσθαι ἐγὼ εἰμί, “before Abraham was, I am.” (John 8:58). John combines these meanings of λόγος from different traditions in the person of Christ, thereby revealing that the eternal Divine Wisdom which created the universe, which is thus ordered and reasonable, is, in reality, a person who was sent by the Father into the world, fusing the Hebraic and the Hellenistic λόγος into the Christian. John asserts the duality of Father and Son, demonstrating the personhood of the Godhead.

Of course, this is only a small part of Trinitarian theology, especially since it does not include anything about the Holy Spirit. Much of this is perhaps lost as a result of the translation from the Greek into other languages and the “popularization” of the Bible since the so called “Reformation.” English can only give a term that covers a small part of the whole; at the very least, “Word” signifies the creation of the world, making the relation to Genesis apparent, and indicating that the Creator Himself came into the world. It gives a hint at the fullness of Logos, but we must look further.


1. This passage is sometimes referred to as the “Last Gospel” since it was read (and still is at “Latin Masses”) at the very end of the Roman Mass before the modern liturgical changes.

2. All Bible translations are from the Douay-Rheims version with modifications in certain parts to better reflect the Greek text.

3. Time is, after all, a part of the universe, of creation. Describing this idea with language is difficult, as the word “before” implies time, outside of which it does not make sense.

4. Haydock’s Catholic Bible Commentary: John 1.

5. The Greek variants in this passage were the cause of debate during the Arian Controversy. Arians took ἔκτισε to “prove” that the Son was a creature and therefore lesser than the Father and not “true God.” It has been noted that the Hebrew verb used here can be translated into either of the variants, which accounts for the discrepancy in Greek versions of the Old Testament. Many English translations use “possessed” since it is less controversial and indicates the eternal generation; however, Church Fathers in the past explained “made/created” in an orthodox Trinitarian way by teaching that it refers to the Incarnation (See Haydock Commentary on Proverbs 8).

6. Philo of Alexandria, the Hellenistic-Hebrew philosopher, is credited as the first to unite the Hebraic and Greek ideas of λόγος, albeit in a demiurgic form that was separate from God.

7. See his First Apology.

8. Haydock: 1 John 1.

Translation: Golden Legend, The Nativity of Our Lord

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PREFACE: For Christmas, I present to you some passages from the Golden Legend, from the chapter on the Nativity (as you can tell by the title). I have included what I found to be interesting; much of what was left out was either explanatory material or tangential historical information. I have lightly adapted and edited the text to suit my formatting, but it is largely faithful to the Latin (so forgive the clunkiness in some places).

Have a Merry Christmas; and remember to keep both parts: Christ and Mass!

[Also posted at WCR: 25 December 2016]


On the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ According to the Flesh

The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh happened when Octavian was Emperor, as some say, 5228 years after Adam, or, according to others, 6000 years, or, according to Eusebius of Cæsarea in his Chronicle, 5900 years. The calculation of 6000 years was found by Methodius mystically rather than chronologically.

When the Son of God Himself was coming in the flesh, the whole world was rejoicing with so much peace, since one Emperor of the Romans ruled peacefully over the entire globe. He was called Octavian by first application, Cæsar from Julius Cæsar, of whom he was a nephew, Augustus since he augmented the Republic, and Emperor by honor of his merit – he was the first distinguished by this name which differentiated him from the other kings. For God willed to be born in order to grant us temporal and eternal peace; so He willed, a temporal peace that shined no less than a sunrise.

Therefore, Cæsar Augustus, ruling the world, wished to know how many provinces, cities, fortresses, villages, and men there were in his Empire. And he ordered, so that it may be written in the histories of scholars, that all men go to the city from which they originated, and pay a silver denarius to the governor of the province to acknowledge their subjection to the Roman Empire.  For the coin bears Cæsar’s image and name.

Joseph, since he was of the line of David, proceeded from Nazareth to Bethlehem. And since the birth of the child was approaching for the Blessed Virgin Mary, and he did not know when he would return, Joseph took her up with him to Bethlehem, not wanting to send the gift God committed to him to the hands of strangers, but to keep watch during the night with care, waiting for Him. Thereafter, when she approached Bethlehem (as brother Bartholomew testifies in his compilation, and claimed by the Book of the Infancy of the Savior), the Blessed Virgin saw some of the people rejoicing, and others lamenting; which the angel explained to her: “The people rejoicing are of the gentiles, who shall receive eternal blessing in the seed of Abraham. Those lamenting are people of the Jews, rejected by God for their deeds.”

Then the two came to Bethlehem, and because they were poor they could not find lodging at any of the inns, for they were filled by others who came for the same purpose, so they lodged in a public passage, which (according to Scholastic history) was between two houses, having a roof, under which citizens came to meet either for conversing in their free time or for a shelter against bad weather. There Joseph made a crib for his ox and ass, or perhaps it was there already, constructed by the locals for their animals when they went to market.

At midnight, on Sunday, the Blessed Virgin gave birth to her Son and laid Him in the manger upon some hay. Saint Helena afterwards brought this hay to Rome, as the ox and ass had abstained from eating it. Let us note that the Nativity of Christ was miraculous; firstly, because Mary was a virgin both before and after the birth…

Moreover, on the night of the Nativity, the darkness of night turned into the clarity of day. In Rome (as Orosius and Pope Innocent III attest), a fountain of water changed into olive oil and overflowed into the Tiber and did so bountifully for the whole day. For the Sibyl had prophesied that when a fountain of oil shall flow out, a Savior would be born. Also on that same day of the Nativity, according to the account of the ancients (as said St. John Chrysostom), as Magi were praying on a certain mountain, a star appeared near them, which possessed the form of a most beautiful boy with a cross shining on his head. He hailed the Magi and said that they should hasten into Judæa and there they would find a boy, the Savior, who had just been born. Still on that day, three suns appeared in the east, which gradually fused into one body; by this it signified the notion that God, Three and One, was near the world, or and that He was born in which three, soul, flesh, and divinity, convened in one person.

Furthermore, (as Pope Innocent III said) after Emperor Octavian pleased the Senate by having subjugated the whole world to Roman authority, they wanted to honor him as a god. But the wise Emperor, knowing that he was a mortal, did not wish to assume the name of an immortal. He invoked the prophetess, the Sibyl, wanting to know through divine announcement whether a greater man than he would be born into the world. Therefore, on the day of the Nativity of the Lord, he assembled concerning this, and the Sibyl was alone in the Emperor’s chamber pursuing prophecies; in the middle of the day a golden ring appeared around the sun and in the middle was a most beautiful virgin, holding a boy in her bosom. At that moment, the Sibyl quickly showed this to Cæsar, and when the Emperor was wondering greatly at the meaning of this vision, he heard a voice saying to him: “This woman is the Altar of Heaven!” And then the Sibyl said to him: “This boy is greater than thou, thus, adore him!” The same chamber was dedicated in honor of Holy Mary, and to this day is called Sancta Maria de Ara Cœli [Holy Mary of the Altar of Heaven, a basilica in Rome]. The Emperor knew that this boy was greater than himself, and he offered up incense to Him and refused to be called a god henceforth.

Others tell it differently, and say that Octavian climbed the Capitol, and anxiously asked of the gods who would govern the Republic after him; and he heard a voice saying to him: “A heavenly boy from the living God, begotten without time; there is not much longer until God shall be born a man without stain from a spotless virgin.” After he heard this, Octavian built an altar there, on which he wrote the inscription: This is the altar of the Son of the living God.

Likewise, in the very hour of the Nativity, shepherds were watching over their flock, as they were accustomed to do twice a year during the longer and shorter nights; for it was the custom of the people of that time to keep vigils on account of the sun during the solstices (that is to say, in the summer near the feast of St. John the Baptist, and in the winter near the Nativity of the Lord). An angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds and announced the birth of the Savior and how they might find Him. A multitude of angels came with him, singing: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will!” And the shepherds went as the angel told them and found Him.

In another way, the Nativity was manifested through the Sodomites, who all perished throughout the whole world that night, as St. Jerome tells us: “such a great light was arisen for them which extinguished all who labor with that vice, and Christ did this, to root them all out, so that such a great foulness might not be found in the nature which He assumed henceforth.” And as St. Augustine says: “God, seeing this vice so contrary to nature being in human nature, nearly stopped the Incarnation.”

Let us now consider how the Nativity was profitable for us; first, for the confusion of demons. For now the enemy is not able to prevail over us as before, as it is written, that St. Hugh, the Abbot of Cluny, on Christmas Eve saw the Blessed Virgin holding her Son, saying: “The day has come in which the words of the prophets are fulfilled! Now where is the enemy, who prevailed against men before this day?” At this voice, the Devil broke out of the ground, to taunt the Lady’s words, but his wickedness deceived him. Now when he tried to disrupt the works of the brothers, from devotional prayer, from the refectory reading, from the dormitory with cheap thatch, and from the chapter-room, each monk rejected him patiently. Also in the book of Peter of Cluny it is read that on Christmas Eve, the Blessed Virgin appeared to St. Hugh holding her Son in her bosom and playing with him, who said: “Our Mother, because of the day of my birth, the Church celebrates with a dance of great praise; and now where is the power of the Devil, what can he say or do?” Then the Devil seemed to rise out of the ground, and he said: “Since they are in the church singing Thy praises, I cannot enter, but I shall go into the chapter-room, dormitory, and refectory!” But when he tried to go into the great door of the chapter-room, it was too narrow for him, and the door of the dormitory too low, and the door of the refectory was blocked with great obstacles, which were the charity of the monks, the desire of hearing readings, and their sobriety in eating and drinking. Confused, he vanished just like that.

Second, for the commandment of forgiveness, whence it is read in some book of examples that after some event, a slimy woman eventually repented, and despaired on account of forgiveness; for she reflected on the judgment, and herself being damned to hell, unclean for heaven, and ungrateful for the Passion. But she thought it easier to please a boy, so she begged Christ through His infancy and heard a voice telling her that her sins were forgiven.

Third, for the cure of our weaknesses; about this benefit of the Nativity, St. Bernard says: “Mankind suffers with a threefold sickness, in the beginning, in the middle, and in the end; that is, birth, life, and death. Birth is unclean, life perverse, and death perilous. But Christ came, and against this threefold illness, brought a threefold remedy. He was born, He lived, and He died. His birth purified ours, His life corrected ours, and His death destroyed ours.”

Fourth, for the humbling of our pride, for St. Augustine says: “The humility of the Son of God, which He revealed to us in His Incarnation, was an example, consecration, and medicine for us; as a most fit example which man imitates, a profound consecration which loosens the shackle of our sin, and greatest medicine which heals the swelling of our pride.”

For the pride of the first man was cured through the humility of Christ. And note that humility fittingly corresponds with a Savior, and pride with a traitor. For the pride of the first man was contrary to God, because it was against His precept which He commanded, that they not eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Also, it was in accordance with God, because it was in accordance with the Divine Will, believing what the Devil had said: “You shall be as Gods.” And it was beyond God, as St. Anselm says: “by willing what God did not want him to will.” For then man’s will has been able to be beyond the will of God and the Son of God.

According to St. John Damascene, God humbled himself for men, not against men, in accordance with men, and beyond men; for men because it is for their benefit and salvation, in accordance with men through a very similar method of birth, and beyond men through a dissimilar method. For His Nativity was similar to ours in some ways, because He was born of a woman and entered through the same gate, and dissimilar to ours in some ways, since He was born of the Virgin Mary by the Holy Spirit.

Translation: Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue

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PREFACE: Here is an interesting piece of great historical importance by the preeminent Roman poet Virgil (70-19 BC). Virgil’s first major work was a set of ten pastoral poems called the Eclogues, or the Bucolics. The Fourth Eclogue, as you shall see, tells of the birth of a boy who will save the world and begin a reign of peace. With the rise of Christianity, readers began to realize connections between this piece and Sacred Scripture. As a result, Virgil came to be seen as an unwitting prophet of Christianity, a virtuous pagan heralding the birth of Jesus Christ (which is why I’m posting this on Christmas Eve), which he himself would not live to witness. Thus, many learned men throughout late antiquity and the Middles Ages understood Virgil as an instrument of God, such as Emperor Constantine, St. Augustine of Hippo, Peter Abelard, Pope Innocent III, Dante Alighieri, and even Alexander Pope (on the other hand, St. Jerome, in his typical cranky manner, found this notion ridiculous). This is why the medievals revered Virgil, best shown by his appearance as Dante’s guide through Hell and Purgatory in the Divine Comedy. It goes without saying that modern scholars reject this view. For my part, I will simply say that Providence works in subtle and unexpected ways.

Translating Latin hexameter is no easy task, especially for someone like me who lacks poetical skill; for example, it is practically impossible to retain the rhythm, which itself is difficult just to understand for moderns, without changing the content in translation. Nevertheless, my translation is very literal, and so it conveys the content of the poem, which, even in English, is significant in its own right.


Eclogue IV

Sicilian Muses, let us sing a little of greater things!
Orchards and humble tamarisks do not please everyone;
If we sing of the woods, let them be woods fit for a consul!
Now comes the last age of the Cumaean prophecy;
The great order of the ages is born anew.     5
Now the Virgin returns, the reign of Saturn returns;
Now a new race is sent down from the high heaven.
Only favor the birth of the boy, pure Lucina, under whom
The first race of iron shall cease, and a golden race
Rise up over the whole world: now your Apollo is king.     10
And in your consulship, Pollio, this glorious age shall begin,
And the great months begin to march;
During your rule, whatever traces of our wickedness remain
Will become harmless, and release the earth from perpetual fear.
He shall accept the life of gods, and see gods     15
Mixed with heroes, and himself be seen by them,
And rule a world at peace with his father’s powers.
But for you, boy, the uncultivated earth will first pour out
Small gifts everywhere, wandering ivy with foxglove,
And colocasia mingled with laughing acanthus.     20
The goats shall return home themselves, udders swollen
With milk, and the cattle shall not fear great lions;
Your cradle will pour out pleasant flowers for you,
And the serpent shall die, and the deceitful plant of poison perish,
Assyrian spice will grow everywhere.     25
But once you are able to read the praises of heroes
And the deeds of your father and soon learn what virtue is,
The field will slowly turn golden with tender grain,
And the reddening grape hang from the wild briar,
And the hard oak shall drip with dew of honey.     30
Nevertheless some traces of ancient error shall remain,
To command men to test the sea with rafts,
To surround towns with walls, and cleave furrows in the earth:
Then there shall be another Tiphys, and another Argo
To carry chosen heroes; yet there shall also be another war,     35
And great Achilles will again be sent to Troy.
Thereafter, when strengthening age has made you a man,
The very voyager shall give up the sea, and the pine ship
Will not trade her goods: every land shall bear all things,
The ground shall not suffer the hoe, nor the vine the hook;     40
Now also the hard ploughman will release the yoke from his bulls;
Neither shall wool learn to feign various colors:
But the ram in the meadow will change his fleece himself,
Now to a sweet blushing purple, now to a saffron yellow;
Scarlet shall clothe lambs as they graze by its own accord.     45
‘Let such ages hasten’ said the harmonious Fates
To their spindles, with the steadfast will of destiny.
Seize your high honors – now the time comes –
O dear child of the gods, mighty son of Jupiter!
Behold the world swaying with its rounded weight,     50
Land, stretch of sea, and deep heaven!
Behold how all things rejoice in the coming age!
O let the last end of so long a life remain to me,
And such breath as shall suffice to tell of your deeds!
Neither Thracian Orpheus nor Linus shall overcome me in song,     55
though his mother helps the one, his father the other,
Orpheus Calliope, Linus beautiful Apollo,
Even Pan, if he contend with me, with Arcadia as judge,
Even Pan, with Arcadia as judge, would count himself defeated.
Begin, little boy, to recognize your mother with a smile,     60
Ten months have brought long labor to your mother.
Begin, little boy, whom his parents have not smiled on,
Nor a god has deemed worthy of his table, nor a goddess of her bed.

Reflection on the Immaculate Conception

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As we reflect on Advent and the various events associated with it, all leading to Incarnation, it is important to remember the Blessed Mother. Next week, we celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, one of the most important days of the liturgical calendar. How fitting that we take some time every Advent season to recognize the role of Christ’s mother in his coming into this world.

God, before sending His Most Holy Son, fashioned a most pure vessel, free from the stain of Original Sin, chosen from eternity; “Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee” (Song of Songs 4:7). The angel was sent to a virgin “holy both in body and in spirit” (1 Corinthians 7:34). By a meek and humble virgin, God entered the world. And in her submission to the Divine Will, she became the Queen of Heaven. What greater model for us is there than this Holy Mother (and her son, of course)!

If God Himself came through a most pure vessel, we must strive for such purity that His holiness might also enter the world through us. We must fight the battles that the Blessed Virgin was kept from: purge ourselves of sin, especially mortal sin, overcome temptation, and build virtue, so that we may become “virgins” in body, mind, and soul. To start, interior purification and the conquering of vices. None of this is possible without the aid of God, and we must not fail to evaluate and admit our faults in Confession. Heed Our Lord’s words: “first make clean the inside of the cup and of the dish, that the outside may become clean” (Matthew 23:26). In doing so, we are clean for Divine grace to enter through the sacraments, that the bread of angels may be our spiritual food.

Let us never forget to imitate the meekness and purity of the greatest of all the saints, the Blessed Virgin Mary. Perhaps if we are lucky, the angels might also say to us “Hail, full of grace!”

Sin and Sickness

 

2[First posted at WCR: 23 November 2016]

The great fault of modernity is the severing of the link between the spiritual and temporal. A consequence of this is the loss of the idea that virtue and health are related; it is an entirely alien concept to modern westerners. Yet, our ancestors held this belief due to their metaphysical outlook. It is worth evaluating and exploring this relationship to understand what it entails.

The most basic proposition of this relation is that living naturally (in the pre-Enlightenment philosophical/teleological sense) is healthiest. In other words, a virtuous man, i.e. one clean in spirit, will likely be a healthy man, of both body and mind. Likewise, sin is detrimental to physical and mental fortitude. Perhaps this all seems much too abstract or, frankly, ridiculous. But, it is really quite intuitive as we will see.

In the Gospel of John, when Jesus comes across a man blind from birth, his disciples ask him, “who hath sinned, this man, or his parents, that he should be born blind?”1 Obviously, they would not have asked this question if they did not think that spiritual wickedness might have physical effects. Similarly, after Christ heals the paralyzed man, he tells him to “sin no more, lest some worse thing happen to thee.”2 Furthermore, this relationship works both ways. Many religions teach and have taught that certain actions that cause physical uncleanliness also cause spiritual uncleanliness. For example, the Jews have their Kashrut, Mohammedans avoid dogs like the plague, Hellenic priests would purify themselves after sexual intercourse, etc. Thus, health, as it is related to the term wholeness, consists of purity of mind, body, and soul with this model.

Let us further demonstrate this principle by analyzing the effects of the seven deadly sins; this will present a clear picture.

Lust, intense sexual desire, causes a whole host of problems. The connection here is most apparent. Venereal diseases are almost always passed on through intercourse, more specifically fornication.  If sex is limited to the marriage bed, the chances of catching such a disease are infinitesimal, but doctors will keep pushing vaccines for the latest strain of HPV or hepatitis rather than get to the root of the problem. I will only note in passing the disgusting physical effects of sodomy and other extremely degenerate sexual acts. It is through such great immorality that previously unknown diseases like GRIDS enter the world. Yet, even something as “harmless” as masturbation and pornography affect the mind and body. These have been shown to cause psychological damage through “rewiring” the brain, and the shifts in hormone levels are certainly not conducive to normal body development in early adulthood.3

Gluttony is prevalent, especially in America. You don’t need me to tell you that eating too much and too unhealthily causes numerous problems like obesity and heart disease. The intemperate man eats himself to death; everyone knows it, even if they refuse to “fat shame.” Sloth as well, which typically accompanies gluttony, is harmful. Physical laziness and inactivity bring muscular atrophy; mindlessly staring at a screen all day brings mental atrophy. Such observations so far are obvious.

Have tyrants ever invented tortures more unbearable than those that pleasures bring upon those who abandon themselves to them? They bring into this world misfortunes previously unknown to humanity, and doctors are agreed in teaching that these deadly complications of symptoms and illnesses that disconcert their art, confound their experience, and so often belie their old aphorisms, have their source in pleasures. ~ Bishop Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet

The rest are more subtle in their effects, yet still very real. Psychological damage results from fixation on money and other material goods. Greed generates obsession and paranoia. The avaricious man develops neurosis as he consumes himself with worry about his fortune and hoard for no particular reason. Envy is even more destructive. It leads to psychopathy and sociopathy through narcissism, as the individual becomes violent against others simply because they have what he lacks, an injustice in his twisted mind. Wrath too brings emotional problems, such as anxiety and depression, as well as physical issues like weakening the immune system, greater risk for strokes, and heart problems.

Pride is perhaps the hardest to link to any specific illness or disease, but it underlies all these other sins through the usurpation of the divine will by the personal will. The man who submits to God and wars against his vices and temptations avoids the problems that accompany them. It might also be said that the haughty man, in his brashness, is much more likely to put himself in harm’s way since he overestimates his own abilities.

Scripture is not wrong when it says “He that sinneth in the sight of his Maker, shall fall into the hands of the physician.”4 That’s not to say that we should take this general law too far. Not all maladies are a result of personal sin, and not all sin will immediately or necessarily lead to disease. But, corruption breeds further corruption whereas virtue profits one’s entire life. By embracing the higher part of human nature, we are able to obtain wholesome lives. It is no wonder that our spiritually dead age is also a physically sick one, with the pervasiveness of many preventable diseases; just as it is no surprise that many of the holy men of the past lived into great old age.

There is another interesting note related to this topic— the most forgotten and least understood sacrament: Extreme Unction (or Anointing of the Sick). This sacrament is administered to those at danger of death as a result of sickness or old age. Through spiritual purification and increase in grace, the hope is that the ill man will receive alleviation from his infirmity, if not an outright return to health. While this appears to simply be wishful thinking from a materialistic standpoint, it is really much deeper as it is a realization of the link between the temporal and spiritual (as all of the seven sacraments are).

We must cultivate chastity, temperance, diligence, charity, kindness, patience, and humility. Take this exhortation for what it is. If you are not convinced of the spiritual fruits of the virtues, at least be mindful of their physical benefits. This is about more than simply an individual purification, as the health of a family depends upon the parents, especially the father. It is common sense that reproductive beings produce similar beings. Although the child is not responsible for the sin of the father, it is ridiculous to think that the father’s vices are not harmful to his child. The drunkard father often has a drunkard son, the lecherous father a lecherous son, and so on. It is the father’s duty to raise the family properly— family diseases are as much spiritual as they are genetic. Cleanse yourself that you may cleanse further generations by your purity and example.


1. John 9:2

2. John 5:14. Although in response to the disciples’ question in chapter 9, Christ tells them that the man’s blindness is not from his or his parent’s sin, the case appears different here. St. John Chrysostom notes on the passage: “Here we learn in the first place, that his disease was the consequence of his sins. We are apt to bear with great indifference the diseases of our souls; but, should the body suffer ever so little hurt, we have recourse to the most energetic remedies. Wherefore God punishes the body for the offenses of the soul.”

3. It wouldn’t surprise me if the rise of effete males is linked to the popularization of pornography.

4. Ecclesiasticus 38:15

Translation: St. Alcuin, Conflict of Spring and Winter

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In honor of the changing weather (at least where I am), I present a poem on the seasons titled Conflictus Veris et Hiemis. It is attributed to St. Alcuin of York, the famous Anglo-Saxon scholar who was a courtier of Charlemagne. It is written in hexameter.

I must confess that translating poetry is a difficult task, made even worse due to my own poetical ineptitude. A literal translation is not always the best for poems, but I have remained quite faithful to the Latin text; I hope that it is not too grating.


The Conflict of Spring and Winter

They all gathered from the high mountains
Shepherds of sheep, in the spring light under the shade of a tree,
To celebrate together with joyful songs.
Here arrived both young Daphnis and old Palemon;
All prepared to sing praises to the cuckoo.
Spring too came, adorned with a flowery crown,
Cold Winter also, rough with stiff hair.
There was a battle between them about the cuckoo’s grand song.
Spring first played melodious verses, three at a time.

Spring:

I hope my cuckoo comes, dearest bird!
For all, he tends to be the most beloved visitor
On the rooftops, singing pleasant songs with a red beak.

Winter:

Then, icy Winter responded with a grave voice:
Let not the cuckoo come, but sleep in dark caverns!
He always brings famine with himself.

Spring:

I hope my cuckoo comes with happy seed,
Casting out the cold, age-old companion of Phoebus.
Phoebus loves the cuckoo rising in the serene light.

Winter:

Let not the cuckoo come, for he creates chance labors,
Multiplies conflicts, breaks beloved rest,
Disturbs all; sea and earth suffer.

Spring:

What are you, slow Winter, that you sing scorns of the cuckoo?
Who’s hidden with heavy numbness in dark caves
After the feasts of Venus, and the foolish cups of Bacchus.

Winter:

Riches are mine, and joyful feasts,
Rest is sweet, as warm fire in the home.
These the cuckoo knows not, but he works his treacheries.

Spring:

The cuckoo brings flowers with his bill, and gives honey,
Builds nests, and sails gentle waves,
Begets offspring, and will cover happy fields.

Winter:

These are my enemies, which seem such joys to you.
I like to count my pleasant treasures in my chests
And rejoice with food at the same time, and always rest.

Spring:

Who, slow Winter, resolved to always sleep,
Amasses riches, or gathers any treasure for you,
If spring or summer do not labor before you?

Winter:

You say well: they, since they labor much for me,
Are yet slaves under our dominion.
Serving me as lord, they work whatsoever.

Spring:

You are not lord to them, but a poor and proud pauper.
You would not be able to feed yourself at all
Unless the coming cuckoo provides you food.

Palemon:

Then Palemon responded, exulting from his high seat
And Daphnis as well, and the crowd of pious shepherds:
“No more, Winter; you are wasteful, terrible.
And let the cuckoo come, sweet friend of shepherds,
May the happy seeds break out on our hills,
The herd be at pasture, and rest and sweetness in the fields.
And green branches provide shade to the tired,
Goats come to the pail with full udders,
And the birds salute Phoebus under their voice.
Wherefore, see how the cuckoo comes more swiftly!
For you are sweet love, most beloved visitor to all men.
All wait for you, sea and earth and heaven.
Hail, sweet grace, hail the cuckoo for ever!”


Notes:

Daphnis and Palaemon are two characters from Virgil’s pastoral Eclogues.

Phoebus is another name of the god Apollo; here, it is a personification of the sun.

Translation: Golden Legend, Passage on the Venerable Bede

san2bbeda2bel2bvenerable

One of the most interesting parts of the Golden Legend is the section on Pope Pelagius I, which is often subtitled History of the Lombards as it covers much more than just the Pope’s life. Within it is a part on the Venerable Bede. Although Bede would eventually receive his own entry in later versions, the original Latin only contains a few references to him and the following short passage.


From On Pope Pelagius

Around the year of our Lord 687,[1] the Venerable Bede, priest and monk, became famous in England. He is included in the catalogue of the saints yet is not called saint, but venerable, and this is for two reasons. The first is because when his eyes had been darkened by very great old age, he had, as they say, a guide who led him through villages and towns where he preached the word of the Lord. On one occasion, while they were passing through a valley full of large stones, his disciple, to mock him, told him that a great crowd was gathered there. Thereupon, he began to preach fervently, and when he concluded the ending per omnia secula seculorum,[2] suddenly, as they say, the stones cried out with a high voice, “Amen, venerable father!” Therefore, because the stones miraculously called him venerable, he is called venerable father. Or, as others say, angels responded to him, “You have spoken well, venerable father!” The second reason is because after his death, a cleric devoted to him wanted to form a verse that he intended to carve onto his tomb. It began, Hac sunt in fossa… and he wanted to finish with Bedae sancti ossa, but then the rhythm of the verse would not work; and he diligently sought a solution but there did not seem to be a fitting ending.  After a night of giving it much thought, in the morning he hurried to the tomb and found a suitable verse written by the hands of angels, which went:

Hac sunt in fossa

Bedae venerabilis ossa

[In this grave are

the bones of the venerable Bede]

Moreover, on the day of the Ascension, with his death approaching, Bede had himself carried to the altar, singing, “Amen, O King of glory and power,” which he devoutly said up to the end. And when he finished, he slept in peace and a great smell pervaded everything, so that all thought they were in heaven.

His body is venerated with fitting devotion in Genoa.[3]


[1] This date would have been quite early in the saint’s life

[2] through all ages of ages, or “for ever and ever”

[3] Jacobus seems to be mistaken, as this Bede’s relics were never (to my knowledge) in Genoa. It is likely that he was confused with St. Bede the Younger, a monk who served Charles the Bald and was interred in Genoa.

Translation: Golden Legend, Life of St. Longinus

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PREFACE: Here we have an absolute gem of a book, originally titled Legenda Sanctorum, or Legends of the Saints. However, it was so highly valued that it was said to be “worth its weight in gold,” thus becoming the Legenda Aurea, or Golden Legend(s). It was one of the most popular books of the late Middles Ages, with over a thousand copies having survived to the present; naturally, pretty much no one alive today has heard of it.

The Golden Legend is a collection of stories about the lives of the saints as well as other events associated with the feasts of the liturgical year. It was compiled by Blessed Jacobus de Voragine (~1230-1298) sometime in his adult life. Blessed Jacobus entered the Dominican Order in his youth, eventually became the Archbishop of Genoa, and then was swept up in the conflict between the Guelphs and Ghibellines. It must be noted that the hagiographies which he presents, collected from various sources, are not intended to simply be historical accounts, as many are quite obviously fanciful, even from a medieval perspective. Rather, the Golden Legend’s purpose is to inspire its readers to grow in devotion to God and His saints. In this, it is a great success, though many moderns (those who’ve heard of it anyway) view it with derision since it is uncritical and fantastical.

The text was added to over the centuries; existing entries were expanded, and accounts for saints left out in the first edition were put in as well as some for later saints, like Blessed Jacobus’ contemporary, and fellow Dominican, St. Thomas Aquinas. Most of the Golden Legend, with its additions, is available here in old-style English.

Hagiographers generally wrote for all classes of people, so the Latin herein is quite simple and great for students.

This passage in particular is on St. Longinus, the centurion present at Christ’s crucifixion and the person depicted in my avatar. Though his story was later expanded, the original Latin one is quite short, which is what I’ve used here.

If you have any suggestions, recommendations, requests, corrections, or questions about translating, feel free to contact me.


On Saint Longinus

Longinus was a centurion who, along with other soldiers, stood at the cross of the Lord and, by the order of Pilate, penetrated the side of the Lord with a lance. And when he saw the miracles which happened, that is to say, the darkened sun and the disturbed earth [i.e. earthquake], he believed in Christ. Especially from this, as some say, because his eyes were blind from either infirmity or old age and when the blood of Christ ran down his spear and by chance touched his eyes, he instantly saw clearly. Thence, he left the military and was instructed by the apostles at Caesarea in Cappadocia. He led a monastic life for twenty eight years and converted many to the faith by both his word and example. When he was held by a certain ruler and refused to sacrifice [to the Roman gods], the ruler ordered all his teeth to be knocked out and his tongue to be cut off. And yet, Longinus did not lose his speech from this, but he took up an axe and broke and shattered all their idols, saying: “If they are gods, we will see!” Then, demons exited the idols and entered into the ruler and into his allies, raving and roaring, and they prostrated themselves at the feet of Longinus, and Longinus said to them: “Why do you dwell in idols?” To which they responded: “Where Christ is not known and his sign [the cross] is not placed, there is our home.” When, therefore, the ruler went mad and lost his eyes, Longinus said to him: “Know that you cannot be cured, not until you kill me; for as soon as I will have died by your hand, I will pray for you and I will procure health for your body and soul.” And immediately he ordered him to be decapitated. After this, the ruler went to his body and lay on his face and cried tears of repentance; at once, he received both his sight and sanity. He finished his life doing good works.

Translation: Gesta Francorum, Book One, Parts III & IV

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In the second half of Book One, Duke Godfrey arrives at Constantinople and Bohemond de Hauteville begins his journey eastward.


Book One

III

But the second party entered into Slavonia, that is to say, Raymond [IV], Count of Saint Gilles, and the Bishop of Le Puy.[1]

The third party, however, went by the old Roman road.[2] In this party were Bohemond,[3] and Richard of the Principality [of Salerno], Robert [II], Count of Flanders, Robert, Duke of Normandy,[4] Hugh the Great,[5] Everard of Puiset, Achard of Montmerle, Isard of Mouzon, and many others. Thereafter, they came to the port of Brindisi, or Bari, or Otranto. Then, Hugh the Great and William, son of the Marquis,[6] took to the sea at the port of Bari, and they ferried to Durazzo. But the governor of this place, hearing that these most prudent men had landed there, soon evil thought touched his heart, and he seized them, and ordered them to be led cautiously to the Emperor at Constantinople, for them to swear loyalty to him.

Meanwhile, Duke Godfrey, first of all the leaders, came to Constantinople with a large army, two days before the Nativity of our Lord,[7] and was camped outside the city, until the iniquitous Emperor ordered him to lodge in a suburb of the city. When the Duke was lodged, he carelessly sent his squires each day to carry off straw and other necessities for the horses. Although they expected to go out confidently wherever they wished, the iniquitous Emperor Alexius ordered Turkish and Pecheneg mercenaries to attack and kill them.

Therefore Baldwin, the brother of the Duke, hearing this, eventually found his [Alexius’] army killing them, and he attacked them with great courage, and overcame them with God helping. And he captured sixty of them; he killed some, and presented the others to his brother the Duke. When the Emperor had heard of this, he was exceedingly angry. The Duke, seeing that the Emperor was furious, for that reason, left from the suburb with his men and camped outside the city. But when it was late in the evening, the unhappy Emperor ordered his army to attack the Duke and the people of Christ. The unconquered Duke, with the knights of Christ [i.e. the Franks], pursuing them, killed seven of them, and forced the others all the way to the gate of the city by their pursuit. And the Duke, returning to his tents, remained there for five days, until he entered a pact with the Emperor, and the Emperor spoke to him so that he would cross the Arm of Saint George [i.e. the Bosphorus], and he would allow him to have every kind of market there, like in Constantinople; and give alms to the poor [among the pilgrims], upon which they could live.

IV

But Bohemond, mighty in battle, who was at the siege of Amalfi, on the sea of Scafati, hearing that an innumerable host of Christian Franks had come to go to the Sepulchre of the Lord, and were prepared to battle against the horde of pagans, began to diligently inquire what sorts of weapons this host [the crusaders] bore, and what emblem of Christ they carried along the way, or what war-cry they shouted in battle. To him, in order, these were answered: “They carry suitable arms for battle; on their right, or between both, shoulders they wear the cross of Christ; they truly shout, with one voice, the cry, ‘God wills it, God wills it, God wills it!'” Soon awoken by the Holy Spirit, he ordered the most expensive cloak which he had with him, to be cut into pieces, and the whole of it immediately made into crosses. Then the greatest part of the knights who were in the siege began to flock to him eagerly, so that Count Roger[8] nearly remained alone, who returned to Sicily grieving and lamenting because his army left him.

Thereafter, returning back to his own land [i.e. Taranto], Lord Bohemond diligently equipped himself to begin the journey to the Holy Sepulchre. Eventually, he crossed the sea with his army, and with him Tancred, son of the Marquis,[9] and Richard of the Principality, and Rainulf his brother, and Robert of Anse, and Herman of Cannes, and Robert of Sourdeval, and Robert Fitz-Toustan, and Humphrey Fitz-Ralph, and Richard, son of Count Rainulf, the Count of Russignolo, along with his brothers, Boel of Chartres, and Aubre of Cagnano, and Humphrey of Monte Scaglioso.

All these crossed the sea in Bohemond’s service, and landed in Bulgaria; where they found a very great abundance of grain and wine and bodily nourishments. Then, descending into the valley of Dropolis, they waited for the army, until all had likewise ferried across. Then Bohemond arranged a council with his men, strengthening them, and advising all to be good and humble; and to not seize this land, which was Christian, and to take nothing unless it was provided to them to eat.

Then, departing from there, they went through a rich plentitude, from farm to farm, and city to city, and castle to castle, until we[10] arrived at Castoria[11]; and there we solemnly celebrated the Nativity of our Lord; and we were there for many days, and we searched for a market, but the locals did not wish agree with us, because they greatly feared us, judging us not as pilgrims, but as wanting to ravage the land and kill them. Wherefore we took cattle, horses, and asses, and all that we found. Departing from Castoria, we entered Pelagonia, in which there was a certain fort of heretics.[12] We attacked it from all sides, and it soon gave in to our power. Therefore we set it on fire and burned the camp with its inhabitants.

Next we arrived at the Vardar river. Then, Lord Bohemond continued beyond with his people, but not all; for the Count of Russignolo and his brothers remained there. An army of the Emperor came and attacked the Count and his brothers, and all that were with them. Upon hearing this, Tancred came back, and throwing himself into the river and swimming, reached the others, and two thousand went into the river following Tancred. Eventually, they found the Turkish and Pecheneg mercenaries fighting with our men. [Tancred and his men] suddenly attacked them with courage, and they skillfully overcame them. And they seized many of them, and led them bound, presenting them before Lord Bohemond. He said to them, “Why, wretched men, do you kill Christ’s people and mine? I have no dispute with your emperor.” To which they responded: “We cannot do otherwise. We have been hired in the service of the Emperor, and whatever he commands of us, we must fulfill.” Bohemond allowed them to leave unpunished. This battle happened on the fourth day of the week, which is the beginning of the fast.

Blessed be God in all things. Amen.

Here ends book one.


[1] Adhemar de Monteil

[2] Called the Via Egnatia

[3] Bohemond de Hauteville, Prince of Taranto, and (eventually) Prince of Antioch, son of Robert Guiscard— the famous Norman adventurer who conquered southern Italy

[4] The eldest son of William the Conqueror

[5] Hugh Vermandois, brother of King Philip I of France

[6] Brother of Tancred and nephew of Bohemond

[7] 23 December 1096

[8] Roger de Hauteville, brother of Robert Guiscard, Bohemond’s uncle

[9] Bohemond’s nephew, and future Prince of Galilee

[10] The person has shifted to the first plural; if the author was indeed part of the crusading party, he was likely with Bohemond’s group

[11] Kastoria, in the Greek part of Macedonia

[12] Perhaps Manicheans or Paulicians